


You Seemed So Happy

by myrmidonqueen



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Angst, I wish I could add more tags but idk???, M/M, Mutual Pining, Post-MCR, Yearning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:00:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27053041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myrmidonqueen/pseuds/myrmidonqueen
Summary: Frank’s fingers instinctively went into his pocket to reach for his pack of cigarettes. He needed something to do with his hands to prevent them from touching literally any part of Gerard’s body, and his brain screamed at him for some nicotine to take the edge off; the kind of edge that can only be present when you’ve reunited with someone whose soul you once felt was inextricably tied to yours; someone who you still hold a torch for deep inside of you, no matter how many albums you write to get over the heartbreak, no matter how happy you are with your beautiful wife and children, no matter how much distance has been forced between you.
Relationships: Frank Iero/Gerard Way
Comments: 6
Kudos: 20





	You Seemed So Happy

**Author's Note:**

> I had to take a break from my usual fic to get the creatives juices flowing and this one-shot was the result! I've been listening to a lot of The Japanese House and Phoebe Bridgers and I wanted to write something that was straight up yearning and heartbreak.

A thousand thoughts raced through Frank’s head as he threw anxious glances at his watch. He was standing outside a quiet, almost-empty cafe, his hood pulled protectively around his head to avoid recognition. His fingers trembled in his pockets even though the night air was warm and still.

He heard the sound of tires crunching over gravel and lifted his head slowly. Even though it was dark and the windows of the car were slightly tinted, he recognized the familiar outline of Gerard’s head and body immediately, a shape that he knew, for better or worse, was burned into his memory for the rest of his life. He managed a smile and lifted his arm in a subtle wave, trying to ignore the feeling of his entire heart leaping up into his throat. Gerard waved back from the car and motioned him over. Frank wondered if Gerard was as anxiety-ridden but undeniably ecstatic as he was. He jogged over to the car lightly and heard the door unlock. Taking one final deep breath to settle his nerves, he pulled on the handle and got in the passenger seat.

Both men were silent, the steady hum of the engine the only thing breaking the tense silence that had settled over them. Frank fought the urge to crack his knuckles from the nerves and Gerard drummed his fingers on the steering wheel.

Gerard was the one to break the silence. “Hey, Frankie.” His voice was soft, affectionate, but seemed restrained somehow.

“Hey, Gee,” Frank breathed, hoping his voice sounded steadier than he thought it had. “Where to?”

Gerard hummed thoughtfully. “I was thinking we’d just drive around a bit, see where we end up. What do you think?”

Frank nodded. “Yeah, okay.” With his confirmation, Gerard set the car in motion and the two wheeled slowly down the almost-deserted road into the night, wherever it would take them.

To say that Frank had been surprised to get a phone call from Gerard last Sunday afternoon when he was having dinner with his family would be inaccurate. He had been blindsided. Normally, he kept his phone on silent while they all ate together but he had somehow forgotten that time. He had gotten up to go turn the sound off but when he saw Gerard’s name appear on the screen, his stomach had dropped. It wasn’t a name he had seen call him or text him in years but he had never had the heart to delete his number regardless. It was pathetic, he knew, but whenever his finger hovered over the delete contact button, it was like his body had a visceral reaction to even the _thought_ of removing it. So there it stayed. And now here it was, clear as day before his eyes. He was frozen.

His wife called from the kitchen asking if everything was okay. Frank had snapped out of it.

“Um yeah, uh...everything is...fine. I actually need to take this, give me a second, okay?”

He had speed-walked out the front door, not even bothering to put shoes on, and lifted the receiver, his blood pounding in his ear. Maybe it wasn’t even Gerard on the other end. Maybe he had butt-dialed him. He didn’t know which option was more comforting.

“Hello?” His voice sounded a million miles away, as if he was hearing himself speak through a can on a string.

It was him. He was really on the other end of the line, speaking to him. Upon hearing his voice for the first time in years, Frank immediately felt tears prick his eyes. _Fuck, it really was him. What the fuck._ Gerard sounded tired, his voice a bit raspy, but it was his. He explained he didn’t want to keep him long, he just wanted him to know that he was flying out to Jersey in a few days and wanted to see if he was free to meet up. His words were rushed, almost frantic, as if he was afraid that if he didn’t get them out of his mouth fast enough that they would be lost forever, stored away like everything else he had wanted to say to Frank for such a long time now.

Before he had even had time to think about what was coming out of his mouth, Frank had said yes, of course. He was free. He could meet up. He could feel the pressure lifting on Gerard’s end of the line. Gerard let him know when his flight was coming in and that he would text him when he landed. They hushed their goodbyes, so much left unspoken still hanging in the balance between phone lines. But there would be time. They had time now.

Frank rushed back in, taking a minute to compose himself. He sat back down at the table casually, Jamia lifting an eyebrow at him curiously.

“Who was that, honey?”

“Just someone down at the shop about a guitar they want me to come look at. I’ll go tomorrow,” he offered, giving her a smile, only slightly alarmed at how easily he had lied when his hands were still shaking. She smiled back and they all went back to eating. Frank felt like his phone was burning into the skin of his thigh.

And now here they were, in the car that Gerard had rented from the airport. It smelled clean and the wipers swept across the windshield even though it wasn’t raining outside. Frank immediately reached over to turn up the dial on the radio.

“So...how was your flight?” he asked. He tried not to sound awkward but it was difficult considering the circumstances.

“Ah...I’ve had worse, I guess. The food was shitty. A bit of turbulence. But nothing too scary,” Gerard responded, keeping his eyes straight ahead on the road.

Frank hated small talk. He especially hated small talk with Gerard because they weren’t the type to have those types of shallow conversations. Or at least not in the past. But it had been a while and they were both struggling to find their footing.

Turning to look over at him fully, Frank felt his breath cease momentarily. He noticed how subtle streaks of gray ran through his dark brown hair. His eyes were tired, but still retained a brightness to them that they had had since they first met. He had some new wrinkles that somehow made him look even more handsome even though they were certainly brought on by stress and general aging. But he was still so handsome. Frank was truly amazed that after all this time, all this space that had been wedged between them, that Gerard still managed to be the most beautiful person he had ever laid his eyes on. There wasn’t a single person or star or planet in the whole universe that could be more beautiful to him than Gerard was. He fell back into the feeling of utter admiration and longing as easily as butter melted on toast within mere minutes of being next to him. He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Maybe both.

Some more small talk and a few more miles and turns around low-lit corners later, they had ended up in front of a playground. At this time of night, it was completely empty. Gerard slowed the car and turned to look at Frank, his eyebrows arched. Frank smirked and shook his head.

“Alright, yeah. This seems like a spot as good as any.”

They parked a few feet away and got out of the vehicle, walking side by side but not daring to get too close lest their hands touched accidentally.

Frank’s fingers instinctively went into his pocket to reach for his pack of cigarettes. He needed something to do with his hands to prevent them from touching literally any part of Gerard’s body, and his brain screamed at him for some nicotine to take the edge off; the kind of edge that can only be present when you’ve reunited with someone whose soul you once felt was inextricably tied to yours; someone who you still hold a torch for deep inside of you, no matter how many albums you write to get over the heartbreak, no matter how happy you are with your beautiful wife and children, no matter how much distance has been forced between you.

Gerard smiled sheepishly and pulled his own pack from his jeans pocket. Cigarettes dangling from both of their chapped lips, Frank brought out a lighter and went to spark Gerard’s cigarette as well.

There was a swing set a few feet away. It was slightly rusted and the seats were worn down. Frank felt like he could use the feel of the sway and his feet slightly off the ground. He made a beeline for it, Gerard following quietly behind. What a sight they must have been to anyone on the outside looking in. Two middle-aged men slumped on the seats of a teenagers’ swing set, skinny jean clad legs dangling, curls of smoke surrounding them, engulfing the heavy void that was thick with years’ worth of unspoken words.

“So, why don’t you tell me why after all this time you finally picked up the phone and called,” Frank said, breathing smoke out through his nostrils. He was getting tired of dancing around the elephant in the room, fidgeting with the foreign feeling of small talk with Gerard. Their relationship was too grand, too expansive for such formality. He wanted raw truth, emotion from the man swinging gently next to him. He felt he deserved at least that.

Gerard rubbed his eyes. He didn’t know the right way to even begin scratching the surface. Truthfully, even he hardly knew what had possessed him to pick up the phone. It was as if his brain had short circuited when it happened. When he had hung up, it felt like the ghost of a past Gerard was the one who had spoken to Frank and not the one he saw in the mirror every day.

“It just felt the only thing that was going to make any difference. It was like...something finally breaking but also clicking into place at the same time,” Gerard mumbled, really trying to find the right way to explain what had happened but his words were falling short and he knew it.

Frank scoffed. “That’s not an answer, Gee. That’s some cryptic bullshit,” he shot back, taking a hard drag of his cigarette.

“I’m broken, Frank. I’m broken and I’m _miserable_ and I hate my life,” Gerard blurted out, unable to stop the emotion from shaking his voice. Looking at Frank now, under a clear, moonlight sky, a cigarette between his steady fingers, his eyebrows knitted together in confusion, lips pulled tight - God, even when his mouth was angry Gerard wanted to press his own against it and melt them together - he realized what he had been missing. The regret had been slowly gnawing away at him every day, bit by bit, until one day he had woken up and could barely breathe with the sadness that crushed his chest.

His eyes lingered on Frank’s lips for just a minute too long, inciting a choked sound of disbelief from the other man.

“Don’t do that, Gee. Don’t you fucking do that.”

If Gerard could have helped it, he would. But in that moment, it all came rushing back to him like a tidal wave in his mind, making him temporarily lose himself in memories past, fantasies that had kept him up all night long after the band had broken up, long after he had ignored Frank’s calls for weeks at a time until finally the phone had just stopped ringing altogether. The remembered smell of Frank after a wild show, alcohol and sweat mixed with the fading cologne he had carefully chosen earlier that afternoon knowing damn well it wasn’t going to last through the concert. The fading recollection of Frank’s naked body pressed and wound tightly against him in his bunk in the middle of the night when the band had a stretch of a hundred miles to cover before reaching the next city. Reminiscences of secret kisses pressed to each other’s temples when Ray and Mikey had their backs turned. Swollen lips caught between teeth, fingers tangled in damp hair and ragged breaths of desire in the bathroom of a fancy venue because they couldn’t wait to get back to the bus before they could get their hands on each other. Gerard ached with the memories. 

The cruelest cosmic joke was that the first few months of separation from Frank had been the easiest; sometimes he even went days at a time without Frank so much as being a blip on his mind’s radar. It was only when more time had passed that he had suddenly begun to feel Frank’s absence like a fucking ghost limb. It was as if the more successful he became, the more he settled into fatherhood and comic book fame, that it grew obvious that he felt numb to it all if he couldn’t share the bliss of his success with Frank.

“You seemed so happy, though,” Frank said, not intending for his tone to sound as bitter as it did, but not really giving a shit about it either.

Gerard made a frustrated noise, twisting his fingers together. “I should be. I should fucking be. I have everything. A wife, a beautiful daughter, a career in comics that’s beyond my wildest dreams, a legacy in being part of one of the most successful rock bands of this generation but...I’m so miserable, Frank. I’m so miserable and I know that it’s because I ripped a piece of my own heart out after…”

He trailed off, embarrassed of the words that rested on the tip of his tongue.

Frank frowned, seeing the words come to a halt in Gerard’s head. “After what? Being a complete coward and ending the band _without even telling me?_ Dropping off the face of the goddamn earth making me think you hated me?” His voice cracked on the last two words and he couldn’t care less that he felt a couple of tears begin to fall from his eyes.

To say he felt pathetic would be the understatement of the fucking century. Frank felt utterly deflated, utterly hopeless, uncomfortably vulnerable. He shifted his body away from Gerard just a little bit so he wouldn’t feel like his shame was on display for him to see. Three albums later from three different bands, countless other poems and songs that had never seen the light of day and Frank still felt as wounded as he did after every other time that Gerard had stomped all over his heart. No matter how much he wrote or performed or cried or screamed when nobody else was home, he never felt any better. It was like shovelling sand into a pit that was a thousand feet deep and every now and then, the bottom of the pit would collapse in on itself making it endlessly deeper. He had lain awake in his bed next to his wife so many times, brushing his own fingers over his lips trying to replicate the way that Gerard had used to do it and never even coming close. He had lost himself in more lustful memories that he cared to admit, his entire body clenching in wantful agony at the lack of touch from the man who had once loved so deeply. Sometimes he would have to leave whatever room he was in to lock himself in the bathroom and sob quietly when the feelings snuck back up on him like that. He hated himself every single time it came to that.

Gerard shifted, turning his swing over to face Frank. He stretched his arm to touch Frank’s shoulder.

“You couldn’t have thought that I hated you, Frankie,” Gerard whispered pleadingly. “There’s not a single thing you could do in this world that would _ever_ make me hate you.”

Frank let out a bitter laugh. “Could have had me fooled.”

“I’m so sorry that it went down like it did. There’s...nothing I regret more,” Gerard whispered, internally praying that Frank would turn back to face him. He fought off his body’s reflex to get up and hold Frank as close to him as possible and never let him go ever again.

“But you seemed so happy,” Frank repeated. His voice was strained. Slowly, he twisted around and faced Gerard, his hazel eyes threatening to brim over with more tears. Gerard’s heart dropped. He hated seeing Frank cry.

All he could do was shake his head. “I put up a good front. You should know that better than anyone else,” he whispered. “It’s like I’m living someone else’s life, someone else’s fantasy. I want to feel like I did when I was with you.” He said this last part so softly that Frank barely heard him.

Their eyes met. Electricity crackled in Frank’s stomach as he held his breath. Before he had time to process what was happening, Gerard leaned his body forward, cupping Frank’s face in his hands and kissing him deeply. It was like both of their bodies had been on sleep mode and someone had flicked the power switch on. Frank didn’t even hesitate before deepening the kiss, bringing his hands up into Gerard’s hair and tangling them there. His lips parted slightly, like riding a bike, and Gerard let his tongue into Frank’s mouth gratefully. The latter whimpered slightly, feeling like he could just cry from the relief that kissing Gerard brought him. He tasted salt from his tears mixed with the flavour of lingering cigarette smoke and nothing had ever tasted so wonderful. It was like taking a long gulp of water after spending a day trudging through the desert. He never wanted to stop. He would sooner forego all forms of food and drink if it meant he could just kiss Gerard until his last breath. Gerard couldn’t have agreed more. He swore he heard angels singing in his ear as he savoured every millisecond of Frank’s lips between his teeth.

Slightly gasping for air, they pulled apart but kept their foreheads pressed together, not wanting to lose the contact they had craved so badly. And they thought the longer they stayed pressed together in some way, then they wouldn’t have to face the inevitable end of asking what came next. They continued to hold each other’s faces and plant soft kisses on the other’s lips, desperate to continue soaking in the feeling of liveliness. Neither one of them wanted to be the first one to break apart.

Frank was beginning to sober up from the feeling after what had felt like an eternity. The guilt had begun to set in, images of his wife and children’s faces flashing behind his eyes. Jamia would know the minute he stepped back into the house. She would know that he hadn’t been having a jam session at one of his old friend’s houses like he said he would be. Honestly, he wouldn’t have been surprised if she knew already with how jumpy he had been the last few days. They would sit down and talk about it when he got home. She would understand, as she always did. God knows she had been dealing with Frank’s split heart since the moment he had joined My Chemical Romance and met Gerard. She knew he still loved her and their family to death, but that his heart was complicated. She understood. She would forgive him, saint that she was. But he still loathed doing this to her. She didn’t deserve it. And his kids...if they knew about what their dad had done.

He still kept his fingers against Gerard’s cheek and their faces close enough that they could feel the warmth of their breaths. But now his head was swimming. Even though his body protested, he leaned away from Gerard and fumbled around in his pockets for another cigarette, his hands trembling worse than they had all night.

“I’m so sorry,” Gerard said weakly, mirroring Frank’s movement and extracting a cigarette from his own pack. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I...fuck”

He had wanted to say _I couldn’t help myself because you’re finally here in front of me again and you’re the only person who makes me feel anything_ but he didn’t dare.

Frank’s mouth was set in a hard line again as he stared into empty space, past the top of the jungle gym.

“I wish we could have that all the time again,” Gerard whispered, wishing Frank would just say anything. Even if he wanted to scream at him, to tell him to leave and never come near him again.

Frank blew a puff of smoke out of his mouth. He waited a couple more minutes before finally turning his head to look at Gerard.

“We could get the band back together,” he said, smiling sheepishly in spite of himself.

Gerard gave him a small smile back and chuckled. “Yeah, wouldn’t that be something?” He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought of reuniting all the guys again and seeing what would happen. But between his comics, his family, and, honestly, his fear, he always held back. He was afraid of how it would feel if they got in a room together and found that the magic that they once had was lost. And he was even more afraid if they found that it wasn’t.

Frank shrugged, trying not to make it obvious that the thought of it alone made him buzz with excitement. “Just a thought. Who knows, right?”

“Yeah. Who knows.”

They stayed at the empty park for a few more hours, sharing cigarettes between kisses, trying to shove down the feeling of dread at the idea that they would soon have to part again. Gerard would fly back to Los Angeles in the morning and Frank would go back to suburban New Jersey to deal with the fallout of his fuck-ups for the millionth time. Then the sun would rise again, Frank would wonder if he would ever get a call from Gerard, rinse, and repeat. Gerard would go back to his life that seemed glamorous on the surface but was wrought with a deep sadness that he had to carry alone, yearning for an existence that he could never quite get back.

When it began to get suspiciously late, too late for Frank to be able to leave his explanation until the morning, they walked back towards Gerard’s rental car in silence, this time walking closely together so their hands could bump accidentally. They kept their hands intertwined the whole drive back to Frank’s house.

“Pull up just a few houses down, I don’t want Jamia or the kids seeing a strange car in front of the house and then me getting out of it.”

Gerard did, and they both sat there, the realization that this was going to be the last time they’d see each other for God knows how long, if ever again. The air was heavy with sadness and longing but also relief that at least, if nothing else, they had had this last beautiful night together.

They shared one last long kiss, Frank physically willing his body not to release any more tears. He refused to cry this time. He wanted to savour every second of Gerard’s lips pressed against his with no barriers.

Then it was time to go.

“Call me,” Frank said through the window, his tone joking but his head telling him not to get his hopes up.

Gerard gave him one last small smile. “I’ll let you know when I land back in LA tomorrow.” And then before Frank could even process it, his car turned the corner and was gone.

He walked to his front door in a haze. He couldn’t be sure that he hadn’t just dreamed that entire night but the butterflies in his stomach and the lingering feeling of Gerard’s fingers laced in his own was undeniable. There was an ache in his chest and a lump in his throat. But they had been there before. This feeling was nothing new to him. Now at least he would have to wait a while before feeling the emptiness of Gerard’s absence again.

Or maybe he wouldn’t. Who knows.


End file.
